Pieces
by xenascully
Summary: Tag to Extreme Prejudice. Because I was unsatisfied, and that crap had to be redone lol. Scene chapters. Gibbs/McGee, Tony/Gibbs, Tim/Tony (no slash). Team bonding, friendship/family, hurt/comfort, angst. You know...the way it SHOULD HAVE BEEN!
1. Chapter 1

**Pieces**

**A/N: Unsatisfied with the fast-forwarding of the premiere, I've decided to rewrite some things. So this will be bits and pieces of the episode, slightly changed around, some a LOT changed around lol. I call it "Pieces" for the simple fact that it will be a collection of pieces of the episode I thought could've been better... Enjoy!**

***~.~***

***(Scene: bullpen, when Gibbs finds McGee, and McGee is taking off his suit coat because he's hot...)***

"McGee, wait," Gibbs said and crossed the destroyed bullpen to stand in front of his agent.

"What?" McGee questioned. Gibbs looked down at McGee's abdomen, and the younger man's eyes followed to see the large piece of glass protruding from his own body. "Oh no..." No wonder he'd felt so strange; hot.

Gibbs stood there appraising the agent, realizing that Tim was in a state of shock and that that was probably why he hadn't noticed there was something wrong until then. But in an instant, he felt McGee start to get a bit wobbly, and suddenly began a descent to the floor, nearly dropping to his knees before Gibbs caught him. "Whoa there, McGee," he helped ease him down, gently.

"Boss...I..." he was getting a bit pale, Gibbs realized, and had begun shaking.

"Hang on, Tim. I'm gonna get help," he pulled out his phone and dialed without taking his eyes off the younger agent's. "Vance," he said when the other line picked up. "I'm upstairs in the bullpen; what's left of it. McGee's hurt. I need medics up here ASAP."

McGee looked at his boss as he ended the call, suddenly having the revelation of the full extent of what had happened. "Boss...Abby...Is she okay?"

"Abby's fine, Tim," he assured him. "Just a scratch. She's just fine."

"Good. That's good," he told him, then grunted in pain.

Gibbs looked back at the wound and was surprised to see the sudden excelling of blood flowing from beneath the glass, where it only seemed minor just moments ago. "Damn... Sorry, McGee."

"F-for what?" he asked.

"Gonna have to put pressure on this. It's not gonna feel good," he told him as he tore off the sleeve of his suit coat. Gibbs bunched up the material and carefully circled it around the protruding glass, before pressing down against where the blood was flowing. Tim yelled out, wordlessly, grasping at Gibbs' arms with both hands. "I know! I know, Tim, just hang on..."

Suddenly there were medics all around him, ushering Gibbs away, and taking over with McGee. He watched as they stabilized him enough to get him on a stretcher, and one of them approached the older agent. "Sir, we're taking him to Bethesda. We've got him stabilized for the moment, but-"

"You have them call me if that changes," Gibbs interrupted. "The _moment_ anything changes, you hear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You take good care of him. I'll be there once I've got the rest of my agents safe." He walked alongside the stretcher as they moved. "You hear me, McGee?" he asked.

"Y-yes, B-Boss," he shakily replied.

"You're gonna be okay. I'll see you soon. You'll be okay, you hear me?"

"I..." Tim swallowed convulsively, then coughed; bloody spittle dotting his mouth.

"Let's move!" the medic yelled...

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

***(Scene: Elevator rescue)***

"What the hell is taking so long?" Gibbs asked as he finally found the rescue workers who were working on the door.

"Gibbs!" Abby called out as she met him halfway. "The door is stuck. They're trying to fix the electrical panel so they can open it." The two of them jumped when they heard a loud screeching bang on the other side of the door.

"Cable might be starting to slip!" one of the workers said.

"Ah hell," Gibbs shoved past them and squeezed his fingers as far into the crack of the doors as he could, then began to pull with all of his strength. The workers looked at him in a bit of shocked confusion. "Well don't just stand there!" Gibbs yelled.

"Help him!" Abby ordered. One of the workers quickly pulled out of his daze and grabbed the other side of the door and began pulling in the opposite direction. "It's working!" Abby shouted, happily. But the smile left her face as the shaft shifted again, making that same awful sound. Shouting could be heard clearly now from their teammates. Fingers showed through from the inch of open doorway, as the trapped agents joined in the efforts to open it.

The car was at a higher level than the floor; maybe halfway up. But when it screeched again, it slipped to almost level with the floor. Abby's hands shot to cover her mouth. The door was pried open another foot, and the elevator dropped halfway down. Abby officially freaked. She wasn't sure who all was screaming out, but she knew she was one of them.

"Come on! Get 'em out!" Gibbs yelled. Tony was boosting Ziva up as Gibbs and the worker pulled her up. The shaft began to screech again, and Tony pushed Ziva the rest of the way out before it dropped another few inches. "Come on, Tony!" Gibbs reached for the agent.

"Trying, Boss!" Tony grabbed hold of Gibbs' wrist and attempted to pull himself up over the ledge. He'd hit his head during the initial blast, though he hadn't felt much of anything from it until now. Dizziness washed over him. "I...I can't..." he told him, out of breath.

"The hell you can't!" Gibbs reached down and grabbed his shirt, hoisting him with all his might as the shaft screeched once more. Once partway out, the workers grabbed his waist and pulled as well. Gibbs pulled so hard, that he toppled backwards; Tony landing atop of him as the elevator cable completely snapped and sent the car plunging downward. Gibbs pushed Tony, instinctively covering him with his own body as they awaited the crash.

The sound of the car hitting the bottom shook the floor and walls, knocking dust and debris loose to shower down on them. But luckily there was no explosion. Gibbs pulled away from Tony, appraising him as he pushed up.

"I love ya, Boss," Tony told him, grateful to be alive. "Thanks..." Gibbs smiled down at him, pushing up to stand, and reached down to help him up. "Not that I didn't love ya before," Tony said as he grabbed, once again, onto Gibbs hand. As he was helped to stand, Tony almost immediately wavered, and listed to the side dangerously.

Gibbs caught him and held him steady. "You hit your head?" he asked.

"Think so, Boss. Room's kinda spinning," he felt a little out of breath.

"We'll get you over to Bethesda," he told him.

"No! No I'm fine," Tony insisted.

"You likely have a concussion, Tony," Ziva argued. "You should see a doctor."

"I'm sure there are a lot of people worse off than me right now," Tony countered.

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed. "You're right. McGee's one of them."

All eyes shot to Gibbs at the statement. "What?" Tony asked. "What...what's wr... Is he okay? Boss, how bad was he hurt?"

"He was in the bullpen when the bomb went off," Gibbs told him, trying to be as vague as possible. "They rushed him to the hospital. I promised I'd go once I knew everyone else was okay."

"Then we should go!" Abby exclaimed. "We should go right now!"

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

***(Scene: the hospital scene that should've happened)***

"All I can tell you right now is what I know," an attending nurse told Gibbs, after he insisted on speaking to someone about McGee. Tony stood by his side as she explained. "Agent McGee lost a lot of blood. There were signs of internal bleeding when he got here. Since we're unsure how large a portion of the glass is inside of him, he's been brought into emergency exploratory surgery to find out, and remove the foreign object. We're not yet certain whether it hit any internal organs. This is all I can tell you, Sir, except that he was breathing and had a steady heart-rate, and that he's in good hands."

"He felt too warm, back at the office. Like he was running a fever. Is that gone?" Gibbs asked. Tony looked back and forth between them, getting more anxious as the conversation went on.

"We noticed that," she replied. "He _is_ running a fever. We suspect it's a combination of the stress, shock and possibly could be an infection setting in. There's really no telling what could've been on the glass itself. We're going to give him a course of intravenous antibiotics once we've got the object out."

"He...he's not..." Tony stumbled over his words, "He's not gonna...die, is he?"

"Sir," she looked at him sympathetically, "I can't stand here and guarantee you, or anyone else that comes in here, that he'll walk out of this hospital. But as far as we can tell at this point, the only life-threatening ailment was the blood loss." She stopped when her pager went off on her belt. She grabbed it and glanced at the screen. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

Gibbs nodded to her and turned to Tony, noticing the sudden pallor of his face. Upon further inspection, he realized Tony's breathing had sped up a bit. He chided himself for letting it slip his mind that Tony should've been seen for the possible and likely concussion. "DiNozzo, you feelin' okay?"

Tony met his eyes, from the blankly searching stare at nothing in particular. "I...I'm feeling..." he seemed to be self-analyzing. "Like I might be freaking out...just a little," he said as his breathing became a little more labored.

"What'd she say?" Abby asked as she and Ziva approached them from where they'd been waiting in the seating area.

"He'll be okay," Gibbs told her, without looking away from Tony.

"That...that's not exactly what she said," Tony retorted, trying in vain to reel it in and put on the infamous DiNozzo smile-that-hides-all. "She said they don't know..."

"She said they were checking to see what the glass might've hit," Gibbs said.

"She said she couldn't guarantee..." his breathing was out of control, and his hands went to his hips as he leaned a bit forward in attempt to get some air in his lungs. "Guh...this is ridiculous..."

"Tony," Ziva put a hand on his shoulder, concerned, but ready in case he got worse, "If Gibbs believes he will be okay, then-"

"Stop!" he shoved out of her grasp. "Y- you can't...guarantee me...any more than...that nurse!" he tried to breathe as he argued, attempting to ignore the pounding in his head. She tried to approach him again, "Leave me alone!" he shouted, then paled noticeably as the anger left his face, and he turned just in time to heave stomach acid into a tall trash bin.

Gibbs was beside him just in time to catch Tony as he lost consciousness.

"Oh god, Gibbs, what's wrong with him?" Abby asked, frightened, as Ziva tried to find help.

"He's got a concussion, Abs," Gibbs told him. "And he's scared."

"About Timmy?" she asked, knowingly, as she was crouched beside them.

"Yeah."

"I'm scared, too," she told him. "I'm glad that a lot of us are okay, Gibbs. But I'm scared for Tim...and for Tony," her eyes started to water, "And Ducky. This isn't fair. It's just not..." tears made their way down her cheek, and Gibbs pulled her against his free side and kissed her hair.

"I know."

"I just want my family back in one piece, Gibbs. That's all..."

"Me too, Abs," he told her. "Me too..."

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this took longer than expected! I got caught up in a Merlin marathon... **

***~.~***

***(Scene: hospital continued)***

_ "Come on, DiNozzo!" Gibbs shouted from outside the elevator shaft._

_ "I- I can't..." Tony replied. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed. _

_ "The hell you can't!" Gibbs shouted, grabbing for him. But Tony's body betrayed him and he collapsed out of his reach, to the floor. "Tony!"_

_ "Boss..."_

_ "Tony!" Gibbs yelled once more, before the horrific screech laid path to the inevitable decent..._

"Tony!" Gibbs shouted again, trying to wake the agent from his obvious nightmare. It'd started just minutes earlier, but escalated rapidly, and Gibbs had been trying to draw him out of it to no avail. "DiNozzo!"

Tony's eyes snapped open with a shout, his limbs flailing about as if to stop himself from falling. "G-Gibbs!" he shouted, not quite out of the bad dream.

"Tony, you're okay," Gibbs attempted to calm him, grabbing hold of his arms before he could rip out the IV. "You were dreaming. You're safe," he assured him. Tony seemed to relax a margin, eyes focusing more, and finally settling on his boss. "You with me?"

"Boss? I...What happened?" he asked when he realized that he was in a hospital bed. "Why am I here?"

"You lost consciousness," Gibbs told him, eyes narrowing at the younger man as he appraised him. "Doctors were afraid your concussion might be something more serious. They did a CT to make sure you were okay."

"Am I?"

"We haven't heard otherwise," he replied.

Tony nodded in acknowledgment, looking off to the side a bit in thought. "Sorry...about the...nightmare thing."

"I'd headslap you if you weren't lyin' in this bed because of a head injury."

"I'm fine," Tony insisted. "Didn't you just say I was fine? And what's this for?" he indicated the IV in his arm.

"Docs think you had a nervous reaction. A panic attack," he elaborated. "They said it wasn't uncommon for people who've been through what we all did at the yard," he added when he saw the flash of confusion and possibly shame cross the younger agent's face. "Nightmares can be part of that, too."

"Heh," Tony shook his head with the forced laugh. "Guess I can look forward to _those_ for a while, now."

"If it's any consolation, I doubt you'll be the only one."

Tony thought about that for a few moments. "No. It's not really." Then he remembered, shooting up from his reclined position, to sit up, "McGee!"

"Relax," Gibbs told him. "Still hasn't been any word. And no word means he's still being tended to, which means he's no worse off than before."

A knock on the open door of the room drew their attention that way. "Agent Gibbs?" a doctor queried.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied.

"Can I speak with you in the hall? I have word on your other agent."

"I'm coming with," Tony moved to get out of the bed, and Gibbs stopped him in his tracks, with a hand on his shoulder. "Boss, I need to know!"

"You can tell me here," Gibbs told the doctor.

The doctor nodded and entered the room. "Agent McGee has been stabilized," he began. "The glass had struck the medial lobe of his left lung. He lost a lot of blood, but the transfusion went well. Some stitches along with a course of antibiotics, and I believe he'll be good as new. For now, he's resting. We'll keep him overnight for observation. But I do believe he'll make a full recovery."

Tony's entire body showed the release of tension that came with the relieving news. "Can we see him?" he asked.

"Like I said, he's resting. You can see him, but if he wakes up, don't talk about...well, just... He should probably not talk about work-related things until he's been released," the doctor told them. "Let his stress levels stay as low as possible so that he can continue to rest while he's here."

"Gotcha, Doc," Gibbs replied.

*~.~*

Once Tony had the IV removed, and was dressed, he and Gibbs headed over to Tim's room. Gibbs had told Abby and Ziva the news about the younger agent, and they'd taken advantage of the time before Tony was ready for discharge, to go and visit McGee themselves. The four of them met in the hall that led to the room.

"He has not awoken, Gibbs," Ziva told him.

"But he's gonna be okay," Abby added, looking back and forth between the men. "He'll be fine," he said with hopeful eyes, directed at Tony. And without warning, she lunged herself at him, wrapping her arms around his torso and fitting her head into the crook of his shoulder. "You'll be okay, too, right?" she asked, softly.

"Of course I will, Abs," he replied, feeling slightly out of place. He wrapped his arms around her back in reassurance. "I'm always okay."

"You scared me," she told him, desperately attempting to hold back tears that threatened to make an appearance. "Back in the waiting room."

"I'm sorry," he held her a little tighter. "I dunno what happened..."

Suddenly she was pulling away, "You should go see McGee. Go on," she looked up at him, giving him a small smile she managed to conjure. "We can talk later."

He furrowed his brow for a moment, then replied, "Okay." He turned to Gibbs, who had been talking quietly to Ziva, which relieved him that the moment he'd shared with Abby had been semi-private. Gibbs seemed to sense the conversation was over, and turned to Tony. "Ready, Boss?"

Gibbs gave a small nod and they headed toward the room once more. Upon entering, Tony felt a strange aching in his chest. As they approached Tim's bedside, he realized he'd never actually seen the younger man asleep like this. Passed out at his desk after a heavy workload, or in the car after a stake-out, sure. But like this?

Tim wasn't as pale as the last he'd seen the young man, but the dark circles that masked his eyes showed the severity of what his system had been through. A nasal cannula feeding oxygen to his healing lung, and the rectangular bandage over his wound that likely had doubled as a place to put the chest tube in which to drain the blood, were the only other signs of Tim's incident. They were reminded how thin the agent had gotten, with the blanket folded only up to his waist.

"This isn't natural," Tony said, quietly. "McGee doesn't get hurt. Not like this."

Gibbs glanced at his SFA, "He's an agent, Tony. Getting hurt is sometimes part of the job."

"But this wasn't part of the job," Tony retorted, meeting Gibbs' eyes. "This wasn't him pulling a hamstring chasing after a suspect, or being shot at out on the field. This was a monster... A monster who attacked our home." He looked back at Tim, but Gibbs kept his eyes on Tony a moment longer. "McGee shouldn't have been hurt like this. It's not fair."

"No, it's not," Gibbs looked back to the sleeping agent. "None of it is."

"That bastard hurt my family, Gibbs," Tony said. "We need to find him; make him pay."

Silently, Gibbs agreed...

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

***(Scene: recovery)***

"Gah!" Tim yelped as Tony helped him to sit on his couch.

"Sorry, sorry," Tony cringed as he pulled away. "Geez. I'm wondering if those docs were wrong to let you go home already."

"This isn't home, Tony," he retorted. "Not mine, anyway."

"Well you needed somebody to look out for you, and I sure as hell wasn't staying at casa la nerd," he replied with a smirk. McGee shook his head. "You want something to eat? I can order something..."

"Not really that hungry," Tim told him.

"Yeah...Me either," Tony agreed. Tim took a moment to appraise his friend, as Tony busied himself with some old mail on the coffee table. The older agent seemed a bit pale. "Wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Uh...sure, I guess."

"What do you feel like watching? Haven't bought anything recently, but there's some decent stuff on Pay-per-view."

"I honestly don't care," he replied. "As long as we can maybe skip out on anything with explosions, just this once."

Tony let out a small laugh, "I think I can live with that." He stood from the couch and made his way to the shelf where he kept his DVDs, pausing for a moment halfway there as he cupped a hand over his eyes, fending off the bought of dizziness that suddenly washed over him.

"You okay?" Tim asked with a furrowed brow.

"Ah...yeah," he cringed and pulled his hand away, giving his head a shake as if to clear it. "I'm fine. What'd I get up for...oh yeah," he completed his journey to the shelf and started running a finger across the titles, in search for something to peak his interest. "I'm thinking a comedy would be good, unless you think laughter isn't the best medicine for those stitches."

"I uh... Yeah, you might be right."

"Okay, I think I might have something right up your alley, McNerd. Lord of the Rings?"

Tim tried his best to look offended by the comment, but ultimately Tony was right. "Okay. Sounds good."

"Ha! I knew it."

"You own it, so you have nothing to say."

"Touche," Tony raised an amused brow as he pulled the disc from its case and headed toward the TV. "You want something to drink, while I'm up?"

"I don't suppose I can have a beer?"

"No can do. But I can't have any either, so OJ it is!" he said as he closed the DVD drawer and cut on the TV.

"I'm surprised you have anything that hasn't reached its expiration date," McGee quipped.

"I've always got OJ, McGoo. Only way I get any vitamins," he smirked before disappearing into the kitchen. "Sure you don't want something to munch on? I've got pretzels somewhere."

"Maybe..."

"I'll bring 'em out. Just in case," he said a bit louder.

As the previews began, Tony came back into the living room with the bag of pretzels tucked under his arm, and a glass of OJ in each hand. He stopped at the coffee table, looking as though he was calculating how he'd put the items down without spilling anything. Tim felt useless, wishing it wouldn't hurt like hell to stand up and take one of the glasses from him.

"Don't even think about it," Tony said, as though he read the younger man's mind. "I got this. I'm a very special agent, after all." Tim rolled his eyes slightly, and watched as Tony crouched down and set the first glass on the table, then used his free hand to pull the bag from under his arm. Smiling in satisfaction, he stood back up. The smile quickly faded, though, as his vision swam gray and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. He heard Tim's voice saying something, but it seemed muffled and distant.

"Tony?" Tim was worried now, as he watched the color leave his teammate's face. His eyes seemed to glass over, and he was wavering where he stood. But it was his lack of response, that scared the younger agent.

"Um..." Tony barely whispered before the glass slipped from his hand, crashing to the carpet.

"Tony!" McGee ignored the pain as he pushed up off of the couch, hurrying to get to him as Tony's eyes began to roll back into his head. "Guh!" Tim yelped as he caught the suddenly unconscious agent before he could hit the floor full-force. Painfully, he lowered him to the floor and pulled out his cell phone, tucking it between his ear and shoulder as he checked Tony's pulse.

_"9-1-1. What's the nature of your emergency?"_

"I have a federal agent down!" he told the woman on the line. "H-he collapsed. I dunno what's wrong. I know he had a concussion... He was in the NCIS building where the bomb went off. I-I didn't think there was anything else wrong-"

_"Sir, I need your location, please," _she requested. McGee gave her the information. _"An ambulance is on its way," _she told him, then tried to continue, but Tim ended the call, and immediately dialed the next person he knew he needed to contact.

_"Gibbs."_

"Boss, it's McGee."

_"Tim? What's wrong?"_ he asked, obviously sensing the anxiety in the younger man's voice.

"It's Tony. Boss, he just collapsed. I dunno what's wrong with him. I called an ambulance and they're on the way."

_"Don't go anywhere, McGee. I'll come get you..."_

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

**(Scene: recovery continued)**

Gibbs entered Tony's apartment after a record-breaking time getting there from his house. It was quiet, and for a moment he thought maybe McGee had gone with them in the ambulance. But as the couch came into view, he saw the young agent sitting on the floor with his back up against the arm of it.

"Tim?" Gibbs called out, quietly, from where he stood. McGee slowly met his boss's eyes before looking back down at the place where Tony fell. The quick glance was still enough time for Gibbs to see the glistening of unshed tears. His eyes looked to where the agent was now looking, and he saw the overturned glass on the carpet, and pattern of spilled orange liquid pooled around it.

"I'd have cleaned it up," Tim spoke. "But I..."

"Tim, it's okay," Gibbs started toward him.

"I should've gotten up," he continued. "I should've helped him with the glasses, but I knew it would've hurt..."

"McGee..."

"If I'd have gotten up, he'd be okay. But I just sat there."

"This isn't your fault," Gibbs said as he sat down on the coffee table across from him. "Something's wrong, and it was bound to happen anyway. I'm just glad you were with him when it did. Who knows how long he'd have been here, before he'd been discovered otherwise." Tim seemed to mull that over for a few moments, and Gibbs let him think, until the question he wanted to ask couldn't wait any longer. "What happened?"

Tim glanced up at him again, "We were gonna watch a movie. Tony went to get us some juice, and when he came back out, he crouched to set them on the table. When he stood again, he got real...pale. And then...then he just collapsed. But I caught him. Before he hit the ground, I mean. I got up. I should've gotten up before that..."

"I doubt he'd have let you," Gibbs replied, narrowing his eyes. "You're still recovering, McGee. He was trying to help you."

"I thought they did a CT," McGee spoke, as if Gibbs hadn't. "I thought everything was fine."

"They did, and they said it was. Doesn't mean they couldn't have missed something. Also doesn't mean they did miss something. We're gonna have to go find that out," he stood and reached a hand out to the younger man. "You up to coming with me?"

McGee looked up at him again, "As if I could stand sitting here wondering." He reached up, and Gibbs realized he'd need to support him a bit to stand. Using both hands, he hoisted him up under his arm, telling him to only use his legs. "Thanks, Boss."

*~.~*

Bethesda was uncommonly quiet when they arrived. The receptionist at the ER desk was chatting with a nurse as Gibbs approached, and she quickly ended the conversation upon seeing him, not being a newcomer to Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Agent Anthony DiNozzo," he told her. "He was brought in about twenty minutes ago."

"Let me check that for you, Sir," she replied, then typed into her computer. "Looks like...he's in imaging, in the middle of an MRI. It'll be about fifteen minutes before he's done in there, and I can have a doctor come speak with you."

Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment, though that seemed like too much time to wait on any word. He headed to the waiting area where McGee was seated, and took the chair next to him. "They'll send someone out to talk to us when they finish the MRI," he informed. McGee gave him a worried look, before his eyes darted around in the air between them. "Probably just a precaution, Tim." McGee nodded and tried to calm himself as they resumed waiting...

*~.~*

Tony woke slowly, a familiar sound and smell surrounding him as his eyes fought to focus. When he realized that he was inside something, white walls surrounding all he could see, part of him began to panic. Being an investigator, it didn't take long to put together the facts. He was in a hospital gown. The smell was undeniably hospital. The sound was a machine, likely scanning him for injury. So his mind processed the fact that he was safe and in a hospital and not at all trapped.

Yet some small part of the same mind seemed to think otherwise. This same piece of mind seemed to be taking over his emotional and physical response to the situation. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, and his breath quicken beyond its necessity. All in all, he really wanted out of the contraption. He could talk to his therapist later, if the need arose. But all he wanted right now, was to get out of that machine.

_"Agent DiNozzo,"_ a voice came over the com. _"We need you to hold still. You're in the hospital having a scan done."_

"Trying to stay still," he replied. "Not really liking being in this thing. How much longer?"

_"Just a few more minutes, and we'll have what we need."_

"'kay," he replied as calmly as he could manage, trying to calm himself down. "Uh...I'm not exactly clear about how I got here. Or why..."

_"You collapsed in your home," _the man's voice replied. _"Your partner, Agent McGee, called in when it happened. An ambulance transported you here."_

The thought of McGee seeing that happen, made Tony feel worse. Not only that, but he'd basically left him alone at the apartment, when he was supposed to be helping him."My partner... He was hurt in the explosion. I was supposed to be taking care of him."

_"We've been informed that there are two agents here waiting to hear word about you," _the man assured him.

Tony remained silent, but was relieved, feeling slightly silly for thinking McGee couldn't have just as easily called someone to come get him. He wasn't completely immobilized or anything, after all. "Are we done yet?" Tony asked, getting more anxious.

_"Just about. Sit tight. I'll come get you out of there in a minute."_

The doctor was true to his word, and Tony felt the tension leave him as he was pulled from the machine. "So uh...how do I look, Doc?"

"Far as I can tell, your brain looks fine," he replied, helping him to sit up.

"I have some coworkers that might beg to differ with your diagnosis," Tony smiled.

The doctor let out a small laugh, "Be that as it may, you don't seem to have any major issues, there. How well have you been eating?"

"Eh...tough to say," Tony cringed. "It's been a rough few days. We lost some good people."

"My guess is that's what caused your episode today, Tony. You can't take it lightly. You need to eat and get plenty of fluids. You're likely malnourished and dehydrated, and after a concussion and the amount of stress you've been under, it's honestly surprising you're not already in worse condition."

"Sorry. Not doing it on purpose or anything."

"I know that," he replied, sympathy displayed on his face as he placed a hand on the agent's bicep. "It's easy to forget thing like this. Especially with what you're going through. But if you wanna be there for your teammates, you've gotta take care of yourself."

"Do you need to admit me?" Tony inquired, worriedly.

"I'm gonna write you a prescription. There's an excellent steak house about four blocks from here. I want you and your friends that are waiting for you, to go straight there from here. If you can promise me you'll get a full meal and drink plenty of water with it, I'll let you go home. But if you honestly can't fathom food right now, I'll admit you and get you on an IV until we think you're ready to go."

"Seriously?" he looked at him, incredulously. "You want me to go stuff my face? That's it?"

"I'd prefer you get a decent meal in you, to hooking you up to an IV, yes. I'm not a fan of admitting patients that can easily help themselves. Not with the amount of infectious things you could pick up in a hospital."

Tony glanced down at the doctor's name badge. "Michael," he said, meeting his eyes again, "You are my new favorite doc in the whole world."

Michael smiled at him and shook his head. "I'll give you a call once we've had another neurologist take a second look at your results, just to make sure I didn't miss anything. Your blood work results will be back shortly as well. If there's reason for you to come back, I'll let you know. But you look okay to me."

*~.~*

A giant plate containing steak, shrimp, a loaded baked potato and green beans was set down in front of McGee. This was after their soup and salad plates had been cleared. He stared at it in awe. "I don't think I can eat this," he said, looking to his teammates who had similar dishes in front of them.

"You don't wanna end up like I did, McSkinny. You haven't eaten, either. And I'm pretty sure _you've_ neglected food, too, Boss," he said, looking over at Gibbs. "This is medicine. Man-medicine. It's much better than NyQuil. So take it. Take it like a man, Timmy. Or I'll tell Abby on you."

Tim sighed and shook his head, then reached for his knife and fork. "The steak does look kinda good."

"It looks awesome," Tony corrected. "You won't find anything better, unless Gibbs decides to cowboy-style some up for us sometime."

"Cowboy-style?" McGee queried.

"Over an open flame," Gibbs provided. "Best way to do it." He cut into his steak.

"Over the fireplace, no less," Tony said over a mouthful of the juicy steak. "Something about it, McGee. I'm tellin' ya."

"Alright, alright. I'm eating." He carved a piece of the steak and put it in his mouth. Though unlike his partner, he waited until he swallowed the steak down, before speaking again. "How did Ziva get outta there without any injuries?" he asked.

"Well that's easy," Tony replied, then swallowed his mouthful of food. "I make for excellent cushioning in case of a fall." Gibbs let out a sort of snort beside him, and Tony turned to see him nodding. "Not...not that I'm pudgy or anything," he added. "Clearly I've just been diagnosed as malnourished. What I meant to say is that landing on me is less likely to cause injury, than landing into the walls of the elevator."

"Fat people can get malnourished, too, Tony," Tim said, smugly, as he stuck another piece of steak in his mouth.

"I'm not fat!" Tony said, half offended and partly worried. He looked down at his plate. "Maybe I shouldn't eat all of this..."

"You'll eat every last damn bite," Gibbs said, sternly, pointing with his fork. "Or I'll be driving you straight back to Bethesda."

Looking wounded, Tony ducked his head, "Yes, Boss..."

**TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: These are just some final spinnets that should've gone even the slightest bit differently. This will be the final chapter for the rewrite of the premiere. I may or may not go on to write some added stuff after the episode that came on this week. Let's see where my 'muse' takes me...**

***~.~***

**(Scene: Dearing home invasion)**

The NCIS team, and Fornell's team, stood surrounding Dearing's home where they'd traced his call. The bomb squad had sent in a sniffer to seek out any possible explosive devices on the premises. No sense in having a repeat of what happened with the car.

They all stood ready, in case Dearing tried to flee the house. He had no where to go without them knowing. It seemed to take ages, but the bomb squad finally gave the okay to enter. They piled in, in hopes of finding the murderous bastard somewhere inside.

But there was no one there. Only a tunnel leading as far as the other side of town...

**(Scene: Gibbs goes 'alone' to meet Dearing)**

There was no way he would let his boss go into this by himself. But he knew there was no way Gibbs would let him tag along. So all he could do was follow at a ridiculously huge distance. Then park an ungodly distance away from Gibbs' destination, and hike the rest of the way to the house. Half way, he feared he wouldn't get there fast enough, so he picked up the pace to a sprint, until the house was in clear view. Then he made his way stealthily to the house.

He couldn't see inside, avoiding any possible avenue of view from the windows. But he stood at the corner of the back of the house and could somewhat hear the conversation. He knew they were facing away at that point; their discussion becoming but a dull muffling. Tony chanced to peek into the small, curtained window of the back door.

Gibbs and Dearing stood near the picture window at the front of the house. There was a narrow hallway that led to where Tony stood. After a moment, he saw the sun catch on something on the sill, and realized there was a gun. He prayed Gibbs knew it was there, and he readied himself to run in and kill Dearing if he laid a finger on his boss.

He almost did, too, when he saw Dearing reach for the gun. But he saw Gibbs act quicker, running a knife into the bastard's gut. Tony watched in relief as the terrorist fell. But as he watched Gibbs' face, he felt a bit bad for his boss. They'd all wanted Dearing dead. But killing a man, no matter what the reason, especially in the fashion he had to do just then, was never easy. Not for men like them.

*~.~*

Killing Dearing, though satisfied with the ending to a chaotic horror, reminded him of the last time he'd killed out of revenge for someone hurting his family. His morals fought him in that moment. The battle of what's right and wrong weighed heavy on his mind and even more so on his heart. There was nothing wrong with what he'd just done. It was inevitable. It was necessary. And in this instance, it was self-defense. But he'd also known it was coming. He knew what Dearing was going to attempt. But he would always wonder if there could've been a way to end it a different way.

Did Dearing deserve such a quick end? No. No he didn't. He deserved to suffer in a prison he'd never be free from. But on the other hand, there's never a guarantee that monsters can be kept in cages. There's always a chance that they'll get out, and that they would be the end of you, or your family. There's always that fear in the back of your mind. And this...well, this was the only way to ensure that you'd not have to live with that fear...

~Fin~


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Continuing on to after the premiere timeline. I'd like to think this is before the Abby-centric episode. Just because...**

***~.~***

"**Concerned" Family.**

Tony sat beside Gibbs on his couch; McGee in the chair across from it, as Gibbs served up the promised cowboy-style steaks. It'd been around five months since the explosion at NCIS. Tonight marked one of their first true weekends off in a long time.

"So, Sarah has finally stopped calling to check in on me every day," Tim said as he took a sip from his second bottle of beer.

"She was just worried about ya, McGee," Gibbs said, plopping a steak down on the younger man's plate.

"I know. But there's just so much worrying a person can do before they wear a hole."

"Jack's probably been calling you a lot, too, huh, Boss?" Tony inquired.

"Every weekend," Gibbs smirked as he began to cut into his steak. Tony smiled and nodded as he cut into his own.

"Oh my god," McGee said as he chewed his first piece. "You were right, Tony. Gibbs does make the best steak."

Gibbs smiled and shook his head. "Thanks, McGee."

"Thank _you_," he retorted.

They resumed eating in companionable silence for a few minutes, until McGee spoke up again. "How about your dad, Tony?" A series of cringing and undefinable emotion flitted over Tony's face, until he was able to throw on the mask again. But Tim didn't miss it. Neither did Gibbs.

Tony let out a small laugh. "I don't think he's been watching the news..."

"He hasn't called you?" Tim's eyes widened.

"Not a big deal," Tony brushed it off. "I wasn't really expecting him to, anyway."

"That...ass!" Tim said, frustratingly.

"McGee," Gibbs looked at the young man, "Drop it."

"But he didn't even check to see if Tony got out okay!"

"I said...drop it," Gibbs repeated, glaring at him. Tim huffed and looked back down at his plate. Inside, Gibbs was fuming just as badly, in not worse, as Tim was openly displaying. But he wasn't sure how it would help Tony, for them to harp on the man.

He turned to Tony, who was looking down at his plate as well, slowly cutting up his steak with a level of concentration that was completely unnecessary. Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder. Tony looked at him. "I doubt he hasn't seen the news," he told him. "You sure he's okay?"

Tony smirked and let out another masking laugh, "Oh yeah. He's fine," he looked back at his plate. "In fact, he's been in DC for three weeks, now. Hasn't so much as left a voice mail."

The clanging on Tim's fork hitting his plate, drew their attention to him. Tim stood up and started toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Tony called after him.

"To work, to find exactly where that bastard is," he replied, not pausing in his steps.

"Damnit..." Tony abruptly stood and followed behind him. "Stop!" he called after him, once outside. Tim paused, turning around right as Tony got to him. "What are you trying to do?" he asked, a bit angry.

"I'm trying to figure out what his problem is!" he replied.

"And what, exactly, do you plan to do once you find him, huh?"

"I...uh..."

"This isn't your problem, McGee. And it's none of your business," his furrowed brows twitched as he spoke.

"He's been in town for three weeks and you haven't done anything!" McGee retorted.

"What am I supposed to do? Huh?"

"I dunno... Scream? Yell? Tell him off? Ask him why he didn't call?" Tony brushed past McGee and headed toward his car. "What are you doing?"

"Taking care of my own business," he replied, and got into the car. By the time he was pulling away, Gibbs was standing beside the youngest agent.

"I...I'm sorry, Boss," Tim said. "I didn't mean for him to get upset..."

"I told you to drop it," Gibbs said.

"He hates me."

"He's angry," Gibbs corrected. "And it's not entirely at you. Maybe not at you at all."

"You were right. I shouldn't have said anything. But I couldn't help it. I can't stand seeing him talk about his father; a man that has no rights to the title. That's the only family he's got, Boss. Why is it so hard to get a phone call?"

"I don't understand the man, any more than you do..."

**TBC...**


	9. Chapter 9

The door to the hotel room opened, revealing a surprised DiNozzo Sr. "Junior!" he smiled. "What are you doing here? How did you know I was in town?"

"I know where you are, most of the time," Tony replied.

"Oh," Sr seemed slightly taken back by the revelation. "Well," he smiled, "Come in!" Tony followed his father into the room, closing the door behind him. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, pouring one for himself.

"No."

"Well then...what can I do for you?" he turned, taking a sip from the glass.

"You stop watching the news, Dad?" he asked, calmly.

"You know I'd never miss a day," he smirked.

"Then you heard about NCIS."

"I did," he replied, casually.

"You never called."

"I figured you had your hands full," he shrugged.

"How did you figure I even made it out of the building?" his anger started to build up.

"Well clearly you did!" he smiled.

"You didn't know that, then, though! Did you even care?"

"Of course I care, Junior. I'm your father."

"Right. My father," Tony scoffed. "You said you were gonna start acting more like my father. But you didn't even take a minute to pick up a phone and check to see if I was okay, let alone alive. Five months, Dad! Not one phone call!"

"I was out of the country," he defended.

"Oh, right. Paris doesn't have phones. I forgot," he mocked.

"Junior, you're overreacting."

"No, I'm not. You're _under-_reacting. You don't really care about me at all, do you?"

"That's nonsense," Sr shook his head and took another sip from his glass.

Tony shook his head, then. "You're unbelievable."

"Listen, son," he began, taking a seat on the foot of his bed. "The truth is, I was scared."

"Ha...right."

"I was," he told him. "When I saw the news footage of the NCIS building, I froze up. I couldn't call you. I couldn't handle trying to call, and having you not answer. I...I wasn't ready to handle it if you'd been killed."

"So you just told yourself I was fine, and carried on with your life," Tony cocked his head.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"You're a damn coward," Tony said in almost a whisper. "I could've been wounded and dying in a hospital, wishing my father would come say his goodbyes before I died."

"I'm sure someone would've contacted me, if that were the case."

"Someone contacted you when I had the plague, Dad! You never showed them, either! You never even returned the damn call!"

"I was afraid then, too."

"You're full of so much shit!" he laughed.

"I...I'm sorry, Junior. I didn't think you'd really care..."

"Nah, you're right," he replied, calming himself, and giving his father a slight smile. "I don't. Not anymore. I'm done." He turned toward the door.

"What does that mean?" Sr asked, standing from the bed.

"It means I'm done, Dad. I'm through expecting anything from you. I shouldn't have started to, anyway. That was _my_ mistake." He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "What are you doing in DC, anyway?"

"I...came to see you," he told him. "That and I have an associate I've been meeting with about a deal... But I did plan to see you."

Tony laughed again, shaking his head. "Well. Guess you can check that off your to-do list." He pulled the door open and walked out. "Bye, Dad," he told him, then pulled the door shut.

*~.~*

Gibbs looked out the front window when he heard a car pull up. It'd been about an hour since Tony left. Tim had gone home not long after that. The senior agent had been hoping Tony would come back by and let him know how things went. He was relieved to see him.

Tony let himself in, as he'd become accustomed to doing. And just as Gibbs expected, the mask was up and strong as ever, from the moment he walked over the threshold. "Didn't toss my steak, did ya, Boss?" he asked as he entered the kitchen where Gibbs had gone back to.

"In the oven," Gibbs told him.

"Thanks," he replied, gratefully, and fetched the plate. "McGee take off?"

"Little after you left."

Tony sighed. "I need to apologize to him. I shouldn't have snapped." Gibbs set a beer down in front of him, then made his way to the other side of the table and sat down. "I know he was just trying to help."

"Wasn't his place to go do it, though," Gibbs said.

"Yeah."

"So...did you find him?"

"Yep," he started cutting into the steak. "He's in town for business. Surprise surprise. Tried to say he was gonna come see me, too."

"He's been here for three weeks."

"Yeah. Pretty sure he only said that because I found out he was here," he stuck a forkful of steak into his mouth.

"I'm sorry, Tony."

"It's fine," Tony shook his head. "Really." He swallowed the mouthful. "I was disappointed because I thought things were gonna be different. But it's really not that big a deal."

"It is."

"No," Tony shook his head again, narrowing his eyes at his boss. "It's not. It's not a big deal, because...well, my dad, he's just blood. He's not the only family I have. I've got _you_, Boss. And, aside from the fact that you're way too young for it, you've always been more of a father to me than my dad." Gibbs stopped mid-sip of his beer, looking his agent in the eyes for any sign of joke in those words. He found none. It touched him somewhere deep in his chest; somewhere he hadn't felt in a really long time. He couldn't even speak to respond. "McGee, Ziva and Abs, well they're like my brother and sisters I never had. I wouldn't trade any of you... Not for anything." He looked down at his plate again, taking another bite of his steak in the silence.

Gibbs finally found his voice. "I'm honored you feel that way, Tony," he told him. "'Cause I've always thought of you as a son." Tony looked up at him, a bit wide-eyed. "You're right, though. You're too old to be my kid," he smirked.

Tony smiled at that. "Well, maybe if you had been really horny and irresponsible twelve year old." Gibbs raised a brow at that. Tony just laughed at the response. "All kidding aside, I mean it. I've got all the family I could want. Of course, that'd make Ducky the grandpa; Palmer the...awkward cousin." Gibbs snorted. "Vance, the strict uncle that means well, but no one's ever happy when they've gotta visit him."

"Keep 'em comin'," Gibbs shook his head. "This is entertaining."

"Fornell, of course, would be the uncle no one liked in the beginning, but then realized he's actually a really good guy we can count on."

"I'll tell him you said so."

"Don't you dare!" Tony narrowed his eyes. "If he finds out I like him, it'll be weird." Gibbs laughed again, though he tried to hold it in. "Bob the front gate security guy," he continued. "I'd say he was like the family pet..." Gibbs wasn't sure whether to hug him, or headslap him. But he did know that there would never be another soul on the planet that could replace his senior field agent. Not as a coworker, friend, or...son...

~Fin~


End file.
